


my dearly departed

by ohallows (dean_n_pie)



Category: DCU
Genre: (kinda), (sort of), AU after Final Crisis, Adventure Comics, Angst, M/M, hallucination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:59:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_n_pie/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Conner finds Tim in Paris.





	

**Author's Note:**

> /throws this here and turns away, never to look back/
> 
> (um okay this is a rewrite of adventure comics #3, all the dialogue is literally straight from the comic, everything else (basically) stems from [this post right here](http://clonebqy.tumblr.com/post/155884706171/im-still-like-a-soft-90-sure-that-in-adventure))

"You could have just called," Tim says, barely sparing a glance up at the teenager flying beside him like it's effortless.

"You weren't picking up," Kon replies, flashing him a cocky grin.

Kon's shown up like this before. This isn't exactly a novel experience for Tim. Normally Kon shows up in his dreams, talking him through some plans like he used to, or just keeping him company. He never shows up in the nightmares, though. This is the first time Kon's just kinda appeared while Tim's awake.

Well. Tim thinks he's awake. It's been a long year and change since the crisis. He's never too certain about things anymore. He pinches himself in the arm and Kon still doesn't disappear. He counts his fingers and toes. He has the right number, and Kon's still there.

Not a dream, then.

Tim... should probably get help. He's pretty sure not even Cassie was hallucinating Kon while she was awake, and she was his girlfriend, so maybe Tim should take the obvious clue the universe is giving him and talk to Leslie.

Then again. Healthy mental states are overrated, anyway. He works better when it's a distraction from the hell burning inside his mind. A distraction from memories of everyone's he's lost.

"I didn't know it was you," he says instead of any of the words floating around in his mind.

He doesn't actually remember his phone ringing either, come to think of it. But that's more common than Tim likes to admit, especially because Dick yells at him (or, well, gives him disappointed glances) about it too often.

"I turned off my caller ID blocking," Kon says, effortlessly dodging a minivan.

"I was busy. Am busy." It's as good an excuse as any.

"Too busy to talk to your best friend?"

Tim pauses, hand tightening slightly on the handle of the motorcycle. "Yes. No."

Yes, because he's desperately chasing any trace of Bruce still being alive, desperately sinking so far into the Red Robin guise that he can justify near-any action to get Bruce back and show that he isn't crazy. Yes, because he's not even sure if Conner is back or if it's just his overtired and overstressed mind making him think Conner is back so he can deal with some sort of loss, or-

No, he's not too busy, because Conner has and always will be the one person outside of the family he turns to on a regular basis (well. Outside from Dick, and sometimes Alfred). No, because it's always been Conner pulling Tim out from the dark recesses of his mind, and that's not just going to change because Conner is - was - is - may or may not be dead.

"Who are you chasing?"

Tim sighs. "A conman named the Funky Flashman. He used to be Mr. Miracle's tour manager."

Kon snorts. Because even in Tim's subconscious rememberings he's a freakin' five-year-old.

"And you're after him because?" Kon asks, trailing off and letting Tim fill the silence.

"Somehow he came into possession of an old mother box. With Mr. Miracle and the other new gods gone, that mother box is the only tangible connection to the Fourth World I've got." Tim takes a deep breath. He. He knew how big this was, he planned this out, but actually thinking it through and saying it out loud to someone is so different. He didn't really think about much this could affect his mission. Especially if he fails. Then he'll never -

He shakes his head and pulls himself out of his thoughts. He learned, about a year ago, that stewing in his brain for too long didn't lead to anything good. 

"And it could lead me to Bruce," he continues effortlessly, pretending like he didn't stop speaking for all of five seconds.

"Krypto! Fetch!" Kon calls, and Tim distinctly notes that not only did his subconscious conjure up Superboy, but it conjured up the dog of steel as well.

Krypto grabs the car at the same time that Tim's batarang reaches it and it stops, halting in the middle of the road. The Funky Flashman is cursing up a storm in the car, and Tim ignores him as he reaches over and takes the motherbox from his coat pocket.

All in the name of good form, he leaves the man tied up in the car and calls the cops.

Kon flies over and rubs Krypto's head. "Good dog! You see, Robin? Problem solved."

Tim slips the mother box into one of his pockets on the utility belt, locking it with a 2-part fingerprint and serial code lock that only he knows. "The problem's not solved. Not unless I can fix it, and I can't.

"Batman was "killed" by a blast from one of Darkseids omega beams, but what those beams actually do has always been debated," Tim explains, even as he pulls out his grappel gun and swings away. It's an assumption that Kon will follow him, because Kon has always followed him.

"So..." Kon trails off, curving around the buildings with Tim.

"So I thought that if I could get a working mother box I could open a boom tube --"

"You could go to Apokolips?" Kon cuts in, eyes narrowing at Tim. To be fair, the last time they went to Apokolips (aside from it being _all Conner's fault in the first place_ ) they all almost died.

Tim shakes his head. "I'm not suicidal."

And he isn't. Not anymore, at least. Talking to the kid on the ledge back in Gotham, talking to Dick, Bart coming back, it all helped. At least a little bit. If it had been a year ago, fresh from his dad's death and Conner and Bart's deaths and Dick being hurt and all the shit he had to go through, he might've had a different response to that. But. He's better now.

At least, he's trying very hard to be.

Kon still isn't looking super convinced, so Tim hastily explains further. "I was hoping for New Genesis. I thought I could find Mr. Miracle or Orion. Somebody who could shed some light on what happened to Bruce."

Because he can't be dead.

"On how he's been changed. Or where he's been sent."

He pauses before letting the slack on the grappel pull him up a building. The cable retracts as he lands on the ledge of a building, and Conner floats up until they're eye-level with each other.

Tim takes a breath. "I won't give up on him like I gave up on you."

He smashed all the cloning tubes in a fit of anger, but it was too late, he was failing anyway, he failed his best friend, but maybe he can find some sort of redemption here.

 

\--

 

The tunnel is dark and damp and smelly, and if this were a normal day, Tim would want to spend hours in there absorbing all the research. Especially since it's a Luthor base. But he can't, because A. he's here for Conner, and B. he already excavated the place months ago. He isn't exactly looking forward to sharing this little tidbit with Conner.

"Thanks for taking a 'time-out' to help me get a jump on finding Luthor," Kon says, eyes glowing slightly red in the dark. Tim shines his flashlight up at him and he's grinning.

Tim just wants to know why his subconscious mental imagining of Kon led him here. He also wants to know why he keeps talking to it.

"I already excavated one of his old labs underneath Paris anyway."

Kon is silent for a second as they keep walking, but in true Kon form, he can't stay quiet for long.

"If you want my help on your search, I'm just a phone call away," he says, and he sounds hopeful, like he really does want Tim to call him, which sucks because if Tim tries calling Conner's phone all he'll get is a notification that the phone number is out of service. He knows. He did it for a solid month after Conner died, leaving messages like he was talking to his best friend, until the Kents disconnected the number.

"If I need you-"

"Or Cassie and Bart," Kon cuts in, and he always did like reminding Tim that he actually has friends, that he doesn't need to lean on Gotham for emotional or actual support because there are real people out there who want to help him. Tim gets it. He just doesn't want to drag the people he cares about into the hell he considers his life to be.

"Or Cassie and Bart, I'll call."

Kon raises a single eyebrow at that, and Tim can't remember him ever being able to do that so it's even more annoying to see.

"I will," he insists when Kon frowns down at him.

"No you won't. You just gave me your "Starfire" voice."

"What "Starfire" voice?" Tim asks, folding his arms and glaring at Conner.

"The patronizing tone. It's completely insincere," Kon frowns at him. He's still doing the damn eyebrow thing.

Tim doesn't say anything. He knows Kon is right, but he doesn't get called on it often enough for him to not be slightly annoyed.

They walk in silence for a few moments after Kon sighs and gives up, floating forward as they walk down the dark tunnel. Tim's fingers are nervously tapping against his thigh, because he's not totally sure it's a hallucination, but if it's not it's the first time he and Conner have been alone for an extended amount of time. And Tim owes him a lot of explanations.

"Conner, I have to tell you something about Cassie and me -" he starts, staring resolutely at the ground.

"She already told me. About you and her. What happened." He sounds nonchalant, as though he doesn't care, and Tim doesn't really know what he expected anyway. Conner... he and Conner were never anything outside of Tim's mind, and what he and Cassie were wasn't threatening anything Conner had with her, so. It makes sense that Kon doesn't really care.

"Oh."

Kon smiles, flipping on his back and casually floating at Tim's side. "It's okay, Tim. Really. We're all going to be okay."

It's not Conner. It can't be. Tim's nearly certain of it now, because he knows his best friend and he knows that there is no way that Conner would just brush this off.

 

\--

 

"Hey, can you take that cowl off while we're down here?" Kon asks, after they've been walking down the same tunnel for another minute in silence. It's beginning to brighten up, and Tim thinks they're getting closer to the lab itself.

Tim freezes when Conner's request actually processes. "Take my cowl off? Why?"

"Because you're not a cowl kinda guy. You never have been." He shrugs. "Maybe I'll get used to it some day, but right now it's freaking me out. You're wearing Jason Todd's uniform. The "bad" Robin. That uniform is all leather. It looks like it weighs a ton. What happened to plain old "classic" Robin?"

"Not until Bruce is back." Or until he doesn't need to be doing morally questionable things in order to find out where Bruce went.

Tim glances up and Conner is staring at him with an all-too-knowing look in his eyes. His mouth drops open a bit. "Wait a second. This is all a punishment, isn't it?"

Shit.

Tim stops walking and his fists clench at his sides. He - he was trying to hide it, trying to hide his emotions; he was doing well, Dick hasn't even seen what he was doing, but of course Conner sees right through his disguise. It's always been him, he's always been the one person who stripped Tim's walls and saw him, actually saw <i>him</i>.

"What are you talking about?" Tim rasps, hoping he can salvage something from this, because he feels exposed and he feels called out, and his entire body is clenching and ready to run.

"Taking on the identity of Red Robin -- the "failed" Robin. Isolating yourself. I know what guilt can do to you, Tim."

Hallucination or not, it's true. Conner was there when Stephanie died, when his dad died, when Donna and Lilith died and when the bomb was dropped on Blüdhaven, Conner was there through it all. He knows Tim better than anyone.

Tim takes off the cowl, feeling utterly exposed, and runs a shaky hand through his hair. "Better?" he asks, trying to avoid eye contact; if he actually looks at Conner, he won't be able to stop, he'll spill everything, and then the one person he can't bear hating him will never want to talk to him again.

There's a slight pause while Tim stands there, eyes darting back and forth around the lair just so that he has something to do.

"Wow, you really need a haircut," Kon muses.

Tim can't help himself. He laughs, quietly, stiffly, because it's such a Conner way to lighten a tense situation, and he missed Conner so much that it was a physical ache in his chest, and this entire conversation just hurts.

"You need a real costume," he fires back, grinning, and relief flashes in Kon's eyes.

"Touché."

It's so familiar. It's so familiar it hurts, because Tim can almost believe that this is actually Conner here with him.

He sees the door ahead of him and breathes a sigh of relief, pulling up the holocomp embedded in his gauntlet.

"It'll just take me a second to pick it," he says; the holocomp is already computing the password.

Kon holds a hand out and shrugs. "I can open it. Nothing a little tactile telekinesis can't disassemble."

His finger touches the door and it slides open with a hiss of steam.

"Ta and da," Kon says, looking smug. Tim almost wants to clap just so he'll stop. They step through the door together, Tim pulling out his flashlight. He doesn't know how deep they are under Paris, but there's no natural light coming in at all.

A fine layer of dust lays over everything. Kon flies over to the nearest broken pod and runs a finger over it, blowing away the dust that sticks to his finger.

"Looks like Luthor hasn't been here in a while," he comments, glancing back at Tim.

Tim knew he wouldn't be, but. "No. No, it looks like he hasn't been here since I..." he trails off too late and feels his heart sink, begging and praying that Conner wouldn't catch that last bit.

"Since you what?"

No luck, then. Tim steels his shoulders and takes a deep breath.

"Since I was here."

Kon shoots him a confused look. "What were you doing here? Trying to find out where he took all his equipment?"

"No." Tim closes his eyes. "I took his equipment."

He feels Conner land next to him, and opens his eyes. He stares forward, avoiding Conner's gaze. "It looks like cloning tech, Tim."

"It was."

He doesn't see so much as feel Conner take a step away from him, and he feels a small fissure appear in his chest. It's hard to breathe, but he can't lie to Kon anymore, not now.

"It's so much easier to hide this when I'm wearing a cowl," he stutters out, running a shaking hand through his hair.

"Hide what?"

Tim feels his eyes start to burn and begins pacing, still refusing to even look at Conner. "You're right. This costume is heavy."

There's a soft hand on his shoulder and Tim halts, not turning around. "Then let it go, Tim. Let it all go. Tell me what's going on with you."

"My girlfriend died. My dad died," he says, and he feels the tears start building up, and all he wants to do is get out of there, but Conner's hand is firm on his shoulder and won't let him move an inch.

"My best friend died. And I couldn'taccept it. I couldn't lose you too," he chokes out, finally turning around to face Conner. He has always been Tim's breaking point, whether he admitted it or not.

"So what?" Kon says, and he looks confused but there's a realization dawning in his eyes, and Tim can't bear to see the judgment and hate in his eyes, so he squeezes his own shut.

"I tried to clone you," he whispers, knowing Kon would hear it, and the words are too soft for the offense, he should be begging Kon for his forgiveness, but he can't, because it didn't even work, and -

"Tim -" Kon starts, pulling Tim back. His voice is... understanding, almost, and Tim can't believe it.

"But I failed. Like I failed everyone else."

Kon's hand on his shoulder squeezes, and he takes a step closer. "Tim, even if it'd worked, it wouldn't have been me."

Tim laughs, low and bitter, and his eyes are still burning. "That's what Cassie said. And I know that. I know it wouldn't have been you, Conner, but..." he trails off and opens his eyes, looking up at Kon. He's exhausted, emotionally, and all he wants to do is curl up in a ball on the floor.

"But it would've been something," he finishes, and somehow Kon doesn't hate him, isn't looking at him with any form of judgment, and Tim can't believe it. Doesn't believe it.

Kon whistles, quietly, and it somehow sounds sad. "Man, between everything you've gone through, Cassie's gone through, and Bart's gone through, I picked a really suck-ass year to be gone, didn't I?"

That's - the understatement of the year. The century, maybe.

"The worst," Tim whispers, stepping away from Conner. He sits down on one of the fallen metal devices and buries his head in his hands. "I am so screwed up right now."

He feels Conner sit next to him but doesn't move, doesn't look up.

"You want to hear something really screwed up?" Kon asks, and he sounds almost conversational, enough to make Tim glance at him over the wall of his arms.

"What?"

"I'm keeping a journal with a list of things Superman did and Lex Luthor does and I'm checking them off."

Tim did not hear that right. He knows he didn't. "You what?"

"Yeah. I'm that paranoid now." And Kon laughs, but his eyes are genuinely worried and bitter, and Tim can relate.

"Are you joking?" Tim asks, because Conner is... is light and hope and friendship and Luthor is death and betrayal and Tim has never for one second seen a similarity between them that was anything but superficial and short.

"I wish I was. And worse yet, I don't want to find Lex Luthor so I can drag him to prison -- I want to find him to see if there's anything good inside him at all. Hell, not even Superman can do that.

"So we're both on impossible missions that everyone else is going to say we're crazy for doing."

Tim feels a hand on his shoulder, and Conner has moved closer, to him and is touching him, comforting him, but giving him space because God, Conner knows him better than anyone and knows that Tim needs to be in a better headspace to deal with any more contact than a hand on his back, and it's this more than anything that makes him hope against hope that this actually is Conner, that it's not just a hallucination.

"Bruce is alive," Tim says, unhaltingly confident, and the second he says it out loud is when he knows for certain that it's true.

"I believe you," Kon says, and it's easy and real. Tim wants to kiss him, because Tim loves him. It's always been as simple as breathing. He won't, because Conner loves Cassie. He won't, because even though he thinks Conner is a hallucination, he's terrified that if he tries, he's going to wake up and Conner won't be there.

But right now, Tim lets himself believe that Conner is there, that Conner forgives him for everything.

that Conner is back.

Tim smiles, soft and small, and relishes the feeling of Conner's hand on his shoulder, because it actually feels real and because if he stares af Conner he can maybe, sort of, actually force himself to believe that Conner is there, that he doesn't hate Tim, that he forgives him for anything - everything - he's done.

"Thanks, Conner."


End file.
